


B'mbhi

by LogicGunn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Jealous!John, Jealousy, M/M, jealous!rodney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 12:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19830463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/pseuds/LogicGunn
Summary: In which both Rodney and John get a little jealous.





	B'mbhi

Being a hunter-gatherer people, the Athosians enjoy a good feast to mark the changing of the seasons. It is customary to invite delegations from respected trading partners, and this year they’ve invited two: the Atlanteans and the M’mbahl. As is tradition, both delegations are invited to contribute to the feast in a way appropriate to their own heritage. The M’mbahl are renowned for their fermented beverages so they are bringing several barrels of Bik, their best golden-ale-like drink. The Atlanteans are most notable for their technology, so in the interests of Elizabeth-endorsed co-operation they provide the entertainment. It takes Rodney and Radek a whole day to set up, test and secure the music and lighting systems in the Athosian camp, plus another day to make absolutely sure it’s spill-proof.

“Rodney, I think this is enough.”

“Not even close, are you brain dead? Liquid plus current equals cardiac arrest.”

“I really don’t think we need another layer of  insulation; all the wiring is eight feet off the ground.”

“Are you kidding me? We’re dealing with the military here. If it can be shot, stabbed, set alight, blown up or pulled apart it will be. Half of them are Air Force. Altitude is no barrier to their drunken stupidity. Unless you want to stay sober and keep an eye on things, Radek?”

“Maybe a little more precaution would be wise.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Hand me the next roll of electrical tape.”

Rodney isn’t a big fan of social events, but he is a fan of Teyla’s brightest smile so he makes a huge effort to gather as wide a collection of Earth music as possible; he hacks into the personal database of every member of the expedition and sets up an automatic copy-paste of all .wav and .mp3 files. Being a multinational expedition, the choice is wide and varied. John’s Johnny Cash collection is given high priority in the playlist because Rodney likes to see his brightest smile too, and Kusanagi’s hōgaku will resonate with the Athosians, but Ford’s Techno is pushed way down low because both the Athosians and M’mbahl will probably get culture shock if they are too sober when it comes on (Chuck’s Power Ballads are removed altogether).

As well as music, the Atlanteans participate in the hunt to provide enough meat for everyone. Several of the military members are proficient in archery, and Rodney is so amazed to witness John shooting a not-deer in the jugular at 55m with a recurve bow that he drags him away and blows him against a tree in broad daylight while the rest of the party are collecting the carcasses. John has a stupid grin on his face for the rest of the day, and he keeps walking into things and stopping what he’s doing with his Marines to look over at Rodney with stunned adoration.

***

The arrival of the M’mbahl in the early evening is a lively affair, whoops and cheers from the Athosians and Atlanteans alike. The M’mbahl delegation is delighted with the welcome and after the obligatory introductions they set up the barrels of Bik in convenient locations around the camp, each with its own tapster. When Rodney switches on the music, all previous pretences of decorum go out the window and several impromptu non-contact dance circles take off, no two with the same rhythm.

Rodney, of course, gives the dancing groups a wide berth, settling down by the fire with a bowl of not-deer stew and a flagon of Bik, content instead to watch his team flitter from group to group. Teyla dances in a circle of Athosian and M’mbahl women for a time, all grace and poise, before joining the leader of the M’mbahl for a toast. Ford starts a conga line as soon as he hears a staccato rhythm, and despite it being in 5/4 time it’s a roaring success. John doesn’t actually dance, just taps his foot to the music while socialising with high ranking members of the M’mbahl delegation and playing kick ball with every grinning child that gets to stay up past their bedtime because the adults are too inebriated to care.

***

It’s already beyond late and Rodney is sitting close to the fire with an empty flagon and a scowl. Teyla and Ford approach with a M’mbahl man carrying a pitcher.

“Rodney, what is wrong?” asks Teyla.

Rodney points to the other side of the fire where John is talking with a M’mbahl woman. They all turn to look. Like the rest of the M’mbahl delegation, she looks ethereal; all fair skinned and platinum blonde, chiselled features and big dark eyes.

“That’s B’mbhi,” says the M’mbahl man.

“Who are you?” asks Rodney, looking up.

“Rodney, this is M’rrhan,” says Teyla. “He is an astronomer, quite respected in his field. M’rrhan, this is Doctor Rodney McKay, Chief Scientist of Atlantis. I thought you might have some common interests.”

Teyla sits down next to Rodney and Ford sits next to her, watching a group of giggling young women a short distance away.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Doctor McKay,” says M’rrhan, sitting down on Rodney’s other side, just a touch too close.

“Yes, yes, of course it is,” says Rodney, distractedly. “What kind of a name is Bambi? Look at her, all doe-eyed and pouty.  _ Oh, Major Sheppard, it’s so good to meet you. _ ”

Teyla laughs. “Are you enjoying the festivities Rodney?”

“Well, you know how fond I am of the Athosians, and the M’mbahl seem smart enough.”

“High praise indeed,” says Teyla, wryly.

“Seriously, he just can’t help  himself, can he? He’s like a moth to a flame. As soon as there is a princess or priestess or someone’s daughter in the vicinity he just has to go over and make goo-goo eyes at her.”

“I think she approached him Doc,” says Ford, waving at a young Athosian woman. “Besides, the Major ain’t the type to stray.”

“The Major is  _ flirting _ with a  _ M’mbahl strumpet _ !”

“Dr McKay, how do you enjoy the Bik?” interrupts M’rrhan.

“Oh, uh…it’s very smooth, easy to drink,” says Rodney diplomatically. “I like it a lot.” He reaches over to refill his flagon from the pitcher.

“I am pleased. Here, try this; it’s a delicacy from my planet.”

M’rrhan brings out a pouch of small, green, olive-like fruits. They are oiled and herbed, and smell salty and divine. He holds one in front of Rodney’s mouth expectantly. Rodney’s hands are full of pitcher, and Elizabeth ordered him to be friendly, so he does the only thing he can; opens his mouth and hopes the not-olives are citrus free.

“Hey, not bad,” he says, spitting out the stone, and M’rrhan beams at him. “You know, I think we’d be interested in trading for these.”

“But, of course Doctor McKay, we’d be more than happy to arrange an exchange.”

B’mbhi is touching John now, her hand on his arm, leaning up to whisper in his ear, _ the tramp _ ! John folds his arms, flexing his biceps, looking rakish and athletic and positively glowing in the fire light.

“ Oh, for the love of…” grumbles Rodney as he knocks back his Bik. If looks could kill, Rodney’s glare would have caused  B’mbhi’s body to spontaneously combust.

“What kind of things do you have to trade, Doctor McKay?” asks M’rrhan.

“Oh, well…medicine, seedlings, knowledge…you know, a variety of things…but not weapons or people.” Elizabeth had been very specific in her pre-feast instructions: everyone can discuss trade with the M’mbahl at their discretion, but no more accidentally bartering members of the expedition into indentured servitude, not even for coffee beans.

B’mbhi is giggling now,  _ giggling _ . Rodney can feel his blood pressure spike; it’s about time he did something to remind John of his existence. Except, wait, what if John likes B’mbhi more than Rodney?  _ It was fun and all Rodney, but it wasn’t anything serious. B’mbhi is the kind of girl you can take home to meet the folks. _ Rodney is so screwed; he can’t compete with a girl-next-door.

M’rrhan braces his arm on Rodney’s forearm. “What if I wanted to trade for time?”

Rodney is surprised by this request and looks at M’rrhan. “Time?”

“Perhaps I am in need of your expertise.”

“Oh, well, my time is invaluable, but I have been known to trade my expertise for important things.”

Rodney turns to Ford and Teyla, intending to bemoan the end of his relationship, but Teyla’s gone, she’s dancing with a group of people further round the fire, and Ford is nearby regaling the young Athosian woman with humerous tales of his military career. When Rodney looks back over to John, both he and B’mbhi have vanished, no doubt to consummate their precipitous love affair. Rodney grumbles and finishes his last gulp of Bik.

“Here Doctor McKay, let me top you up,” says M’rrhan, reaching for the flagon.

“That’s quite enough of that!” An angry voice startles them both. It’s John, and he’s not happy. He points at M’rrhan. “You, get lost. Now.”

As M’rrhan flees, John collapses down next to Rodney.

“What the fuck, Rodney! I thought we were…and I turn my back for 5 minutes and you’re already cozying it up with another guy?!”

“Excuse me?! You’re the one running off with a Succubus named Bambi!” exclaims Rodney indignantly.

“I am not!” John snipes back.

“Are too!”

“Am not! And don’t change the subject!”

“What guy?” asks Rodney. “There are no other guys here!”

“Mr Adonis! Mr  _ let-me-top-you-Doctor-McKay _ ! Ring any bells?” John’s sulking now, pout in full force and Rodney doesn’t know if he wants to slap him, shout at him or kiss him.

“What, M’rrhan? He was talking about my drink!”

“I know  _ exactly _ what he was talking about,” growls John.

“He wasn’t…we weren’t…we were talking about trade!”

“Yeah, I know all about that kind of trade, Rodney.”

“No no no no no, you’ve got it all backwards.  _ I _ was having a cultural exchange with a member of a foreign delegation,” argues Rodney and he taps John in the centre of his chest. “ _ You _ were the one being felt up by a supermodel!”

“She was being  _ friendly _ ,” says John.

“Yes, you were getting very friendly when she was tonguing your ear.”

“There were no tongues! And you have some nerve. I wasn’t the one sucking on someone else’s fingers!”

“What? No! No, there was an olive thing…and my hands were full…there was no finger sucking, I was being polite!”

“So was I!”

Rodney feels all the fight dissipate. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“ So, you’re not going to run off and have babies with Bambi?”

“Of course not. She was asking about the music and wanted to dance with me. I turned her down.” John sighs. “I really never see it coming.”

“Maybe we should get you some glasses?”

“You could have rescued me, you know,” says John, still petulant.

“I didn’t think you wanted rescuing,” and now it’s Rodney’s turn to pout.

“I always want you to rescue me, Rodney. You should know that.”

“Huh. Well…yeah…me too. Obviously. But there was nothing to rescue me from.”

“Jesus, Rodney, he could only have been more obvious if he took off his clothes and gave you a lap dance!” John pauses. “How much Bik have you had, anyway?”

“Um…a little?”

“Enough to get maudlin.”

“Maybe just a teensy bit.”

John smiles at him, and they both stare into the fire.

“I’m a sure thing Rodney,” says John quietly, eyes on the flames.

“Yes, yes, I know that of course,” replies Rodney hastily. “It’s just they always throw themselves at you and I can’t compete with their blousy, willowy, pouty ways.”

John turns to Rodney, looking pale and a little shocked. Rodney realises that John is going to try to  _ talk _ about  _ feelings _ and he’s torn between desperately needing to hear it and absolutely not wanting John to strain something important, something that he might want to make use of later.

“Rodney…”

“Oh, no, no, no John, forget I said anything!”

“Rodney, no, wait…fuck…there’s no…there’s no competition…”

“No, seriously John, let’s just pretend I never spoke!”

“...and even if there was…Jesus, you’d win every time.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really! I thought you knew that!”

Out of nowhere, Ford saunters over; gait a little eager, expression a little hesitant. “Hey guys.”

“Ford,” says John, and from the congenial expression that just snapped onto John’s face you wouldn’t know that he’d has just poured his heart out to Rodney. The military really train their men well in subterfuge.

“ So, I was wondering…if…if…just maybe either of you could spare any…uh…”

Rodney rolls his eyes and takes a box of condoms out of his bag and throws them at Ford.

“Thanks, Doc,” says Ford, as he catches them, grinning from ear to ear.

“If you die of space AIDS I’ll be pissed,” snaps Rodney as Ford turns to leave.

“Aw, Doc, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head. Go forth and don’t multiply.”

Ford runs back to his Athosian Venus who grins and grabs his hand and leads him away through the tents.

“Rodney, you came prepared,” teases John.

“Have to be with you around, Mr Insatiable.”

“That’s  _ Major _ Insatiable, Doctor McKay.”

They both giggle and Teyla comes over, sweat on her forehead from heat and exertion. She smiles indulgently at them. “John, Rodney, perhaps it is time you both turned in?” she says almost casually, but Rodney recognises that look, the one that says  _ boys _ .

Rodney is about to say  _ but it’s still early  _ when John kicks his ankle and wiggles his eyebrows in a way that suggests to Rodney that there is more than finger sucking in his immediate future so instead he says “Yes, you’re right Teyla, of course, it’s getting late” and they both bid her goodnight.

***

Morning comes in suddenly, far too early and with a brightness that should be outlawed in the Pegasus Galaxy. Rodney’s naked and warm, he can feel John’s torso pressed against his back and arms wrapped around his chest. He blinks his eyes at the daylight, and turns around to face John, who’s already wide awake and staring at him affectionately.

“Morning,” says John.

“Mnuhgh,” is all Rodney can manage in reply. He hides himself in John’s armpit to block out the light, and considers going back to sleep when he smells coffee on the breeze coming into the tent. He lifts his head. “Coffee?”

“C’mon sleeping beauty, let’s go get some,” says John.

They pull on their civvies and boots and make their way out into the fray.

“Ray-Bans, Major. Gimme,” says Rodney as they exit the tent.

“Feeling a little under the weather?” asks John with a grin, handing over his sunglasses.

“Mmmph,” is about all Rodney can manage in reply.

Teyla comes over with two ceramic mugs of Athosian tea. “Here Rodney, this will help.”

“But…coffee?”

“Tea first,” says Teyla, smiling kindly as she hands over the mugs to Rodney and John. “The M’mbahl are preparing to leave, if you wanted to say goodbye to anyone.”

“No one in particular; if anyone asks, give them my regards.” Rodney drinks the tea in one go. It tastes like boiled up bogwater, but Teyla’s teas usually do what she says they will so it’s worth the unpleasant aftertaste, especially if it means he can start on the coffee.

“I thought perhaps you might like to see M’rrhan before he departs,” says Teyla.

“Wait, what?”

“He was so keen to be introduced to you.” Teyla’s smile turns amused, and Rodney realises he is being teased.

“I’ll think of a witty comeback when that tea kicks in, but for now, coffee.” He refills the mug with coffee from the fire and takes a gulp. “Anyone seen Ford?”

“You did give them an entire box, Rodney,” says John, sipping his tea. “At his age? I’d give them a couple more hours.”

“Oh god, what was I thinking?!”

“Relax doc,” says Ford, sneaking up from behind. He throws back the box, noticeably full. “We only needed a couple.”

“God, what I wouldn’t give to be in my twenties again,” laments Rodney, slipping the box into his pocket.

“I don’t know,” says John. “I think we do just fine.”

“I did not need to hear that, sir,” says Ford, but he’s grinning.

“So, are you going to see her again?” John asks.

“Yeah, she’s coming over to Atlantis for a couple of days. Thought I’d show her around. Can I bring her by the labs, Doc?”

Rodney considers this. “Sure, whatever, as long as she doesn’t touch anything. Does she have a name?”

“Marta.”

“Marta is a wonderful young woman,” says Teyla. “I am pleased you are getting on so well.”

“Yeah, she is,” says Ford blushing, and he turns and leaves. As Teyla watches him and Marta embrace, John quickly pours the rest of his tea into a nearby bush. He catches Rodney’s eye and raises his brow in question, like Rodney is a snitch, like he’s gonna rat John out to Teyla. Rodney rolls his eyes and holds out his coffee cup so John can wash out the taste of not-bogwater with the delicious taste of dark roasted coffee beans. John finishes it and hands it back.

“Guess we should get packed up,” says Rodney. “Can I borrow some Marines for heavy lifting?”

“As long as you don’t make them cry again,” says John.

“That was one time! He broke my laptop! It took me a week to get all the data transferred to another one.”

“If you break them, you get to hug them this time.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.”


End file.
